


Darling Puppy

by Jadelyn



Series: Puppy [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Cock Warming, Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, Gentle Dom Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rope Bondage, Sub Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:41:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26763745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadelyn/pseuds/Jadelyn
Summary: It was a peace unlike any other, he'd learned. The soft, soothing haze, the blessed silence - inner silence, at least, which was enough in itself to make external sound bearable and sometimes even pleasant - that enveloped him only in moments of surrender was…addicting, almost. Once he knew it, once he'd discovered how good it felt to give himself over and let Jaskier take the reins of control from his hands so that Geralt could simplybe, in whatever way Jaskier wanted him, he wanted more. And more. And still more.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Puppy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950391
Comments: 7
Kudos: 361
Collections: Abby's Witcher Collection





	Darling Puppy

It was a peace unlike any other, he'd learned. The soft, soothing haze, the blessed silence - inner silence, at least, which was enough in itself to make external sound bearable and sometimes even pleasant - that enveloped him only in moments of surrender was…addicting, almost. Once he knew it, once he'd discovered how good it felt to give himself over and let Jaskier take the reins of control from his hands so that Geralt could simply _be_ , in whatever way Jaskier wanted him, he wanted more. And more. And still more. He craved it with an unexpected ferocity - even needed it.

It was hard to admit it, though, and harder still to ask for it. Which presented a bit of a problem, because Jaskier wanted him to ask for it. He'd set rules, after their first handful of times just falling into that dynamic, and the first one was that he expected Geralt to ask Jaskier to play when he needed it.

It took weeks for him to work up the nerve for it. Finally, at an inn a couple days before the bardic competition at Velen, the stress of dealing with so many humans all at once pushed him past the point of resistance. He needed it too badly to be reticent this time. So that evening in their rooms, he gathered every shred of courage he could muster and approached the bard as he sat at the table in their room, writing.

"Jas," he said quietly. Jaskier looked up instantly at the hesitation in his voice, and whatever he saw writ across Geralt's face made his pupils blow wide and his scent spike with pleasure. "I need…I need you. Need to, to - to be yours tonight. Please." Geralt cringed at the awkwardness of his stilted and stumbling request.

But Jaskier's eyes gleamed with delight. "Oh, pet," he said warmly, "that's so lovely to hear. So good, darling, coming to me and asking for it, just like I wanted you to."

A tiny shiver worked its way down Geralt's spine. His mind was already slipping a little into that soft, hazy place as he stood, no longer feeling awkward, only waiting to be told what to do.

Jaskier cocked his head and gave Geralt a considering look, then glanced back at his notebook. "I really do need to work on this further tonight," he said slowly, but then before Geralt could get too worried, continued, "but I think I have the perfect way for you to pass the time while I do." He grinned up at Geralt. "First things first, of course," he said. "Strip, pet."

Incredible, Geralt thought, how two words alone could affect him so profoundly. He removed his clothing quickly and efficiently, leaving them in a pile as he waited, bare and already fully hard, for Jaskier's next instruction.

Thankfully Jaskier didn't keep him waiting. "Get the red rope from my pack and bring it here." Jaskier had acquired a growing collection of ropes he liked to use when they played, impractical and expensive and soft and color-coded by weight and length in some system Jaskier hadn’t seen fit to share. Geralt knew, though, that the red rope was a shorter length, used when Jaskier was only doing a quick single tie about his wrists. So he wasn't particularly surprised when Jaskier bade him turn and cross his wrists behind his back, then began wrapping the rope around them to hold them there. He could feel the tension draining out of himself with each loop and knot, until he felt halfway to boneless already by the time Jaskier's hands on his hips guided him to turn back around to face him.

"Down," Jaskier said then, firmly but not unkindly. Geralt let out a sigh of relief as he sank to his knees between Jaskier's silk-clad legs and looked up at him.

Jaskier gave him a tender smile, bringing a hand down to stroke his head. He undid the tie keeping Geralt's hair back and ran his fingers through it, nails scratching pleasantly across his scalp. Geralt sighed happily, nuzzling into Jaskier's thigh in thanks.

He was pulled from his reverie, however, when Jaskier pushed lightly at his shoulders. "Back up a little," he said, and so Geralt did, awkwardly shuffling back on his knees til he was mostly under the table.

Jaskier followed, then, dragging his chair closer to the table, back into position to continue his work. But before he picked up his quill again, he unlaced his trousers and drew his cock out.

"I wouldn't want you to get bored down there while I work," Jaskier said with a mischievous smile. "So I'll give you something to focus on, how does that sound, pet?"

"Yes, please," Geralt sighed, only half aware of the words as they left his lips.

Jaskier laughed a little as he guided Geralt forward and pressed his cock into Geralt's waiting mouth. "Remember, though, pet," he said, a warning note entering his voice, "I do actually have work to get done. I don't want distracted."

Oh, Geralt realized. Jaskier didn't intend for Geralt to suck him off. He was just supposed to kneel there, naked, bound, and ignored, simply holding Jaskier's cock in his mouth without moving. A low groan rumbled deep in his chest at how arousing even such a simple task could be.

"Good boy," Jaskier said, patting Geralt's head, then returned to his work.

It was…almost meditative, in a way. His jaw began to ache and saliva pooled in his mouth before beginning to drip down his chin, but his mind was blessedly quiet and even the burn of his arousal was a mere background hum. Nothing mattered but that he was doing what Jaskier wanted. The rest of the world could fade away.

Geralt wasn't sure how much time had passed when Jaskier deigned to acknowledge his presence again. He was only aware of a gentle hand petting his hair, a quiet command: "Look at me."

He forced his eyes open and gazed up at Jaskier.

"Perfect," Jaskier said, pleasure evident in his voice. "So sweet for me, aren't you, pet?"

Geralt couldn't nod, but he blinked hazily at Jaskier's words and gave an affirmative hum.

Jaskier laughed softly. "I love seeing you like this," he said. "The rest of the world looks at you and sees the big, powerful White Wolf. But here, just for me, the wolf becomes no more than a sweet puppy, eager to please. Isn't that right?"

Geralt's eyes fluttered shut at that. He moaned with equal parts humiliation and pleasure to hear Jaskier describe him that way.

"Oh," Jaskier murmured, hips rocking a tiny bit at the vibration. "Oh, we like that, don't we? Maybe even better than 'pet', I think. Is that so, puppy?"

A shudder took him, at the word, at the way Jaskier said it, honey-sweet and dripping from his lips but spiced with an edge of condescension that went straight to his cock. He whimpered and worked his tongue along the underside of Jaskier’s shaft a little, the only way he could communicate his appreciation.

"Good boy," Jaskier said. "Such a good boy, aren't you, pup?" He glanced back at his work, then smiled down at Geralt. "I'm just about done with that verse, anyway. And you've been so good for me, haven't you, pet? I think maybe my good boy has earned a reward."

Fisting a handful of Geralt's hair, Jaskier pulled him back, then pushed him down again. "Go on, puppy," Jaskier said encouragingly.

Geralt didn't need to be told twice. He drew back and swirled his tongue around the head of Jaskier's cock, then sucked him down, hollow-cheeked. Jaskier’s cock twitched on his tongue, quickly growing to full hardness as Geralt's movements picked up speed.

"Oh, that's good," Jaskier moaned. Geralt gave an answering moan and pushed forward to take him deep, not stopping until his nose was pressed into the dark curls at the base and the head of Jaskier's prick was pressing into his throat.

The quill clattered onto the desk as Jaskier's other hand came down to hold Geralt in place, fingertips digging into his scalp. Jaskier rolled his hips, grinding against Geralt's face as though he could get even deeper, and he let his head fall back with a gasp.

"Fuck," Jaskier panted, and did it again, then again. He tightened his grip on Geralt's hair, clenching both fists tightly, pulling hard enough to sting. "Ah, gods, pup, your mouth was made to be fucked, wasn't it? So perfect for me, feels so good."

Geralt let out a sharp, choked whine at that. His own cock was hard enough to ache, slick precome dripping uselessly down his shaft. He wondered, in some distant corner of his mind, if Jaskier would allow him release this time or not. Sometimes he didn't, and it was both awful and incredible to be left wanting and unfulfilled while Jaskier took his pleasure.

He was drawn back from his thoughts as Jaskier sped up until he was pounding mercilessly into Geralt's mouth, clearly getting close. Soft grunts fell from Jaskier's lips with each thrust. He wasn't looking at Geralt at all, head still tipped back, and somehow Geralt felt even more ignored than he had while Jaskier was working, nothing more than a vessel for the bard's lust.

It wasn't a bad feeling.

Without warning Jaskier yanked Geralt back, pulling him off his cock entirely. One hand flew to his cock, giving himself the last couple of strokes needed to reach completion, and then with a shout he was coming hard, spilling onto Geralt's face and into his still-open mouth.

A slightly astonishing amount of spend coated Geralt's skin by the time Jaskier was done, as well as a few spurts across his tongue. He blinked his eyes open, having reflexively closed them to keep the stuff out of them - that was a mistake he would only make once - to find Jaskier looking down at him with a lazy, sated grin.

"Good boy," Jaskier said, then, "Stay. Just like that - don't you swallow yet."

With that, he tucked himself away, did his trousers back up, took the quill again and began to write once more. Geralt made a faint sound, half surprise and half protest.

Jaskier didn't deign to look down at him again. "I said I was just about done, puppy. Not entirely done. That was a very nice break, but now I'm going to finish the rest, and you are going to sit quietly and be good while I work. Understood?"

Geralt made a vaguely affirmative sound, not willing to break his position after being told to stay 'just like that', not even just to speak. Another surge of heat flooded through him as he settled in to wait, the salt-bitterness pooling on his tongue and the sticky fluid dripping down his face, cooling and starting to dry on his skin.

He lost track of time again then, waiting in the requested silence broken only by the scratching of Jaskier's quill. His cock was still achingly hard.

At last Jaskier put down the quill again. He pushed his chair back and beckoned; Geralt shuffled closer and settled back onto his heels once he was kneeling between Jaskier's legs again. Jaskier lifted Geralt's chin with his fingertips. His smile was warm and happy when Geralt looked up and met his gaze, and a matching warmth spread through Geralt's chest to see it.

"You can swallow now, puppy," Jaskier said gently. Obediently Geralt closed his mouth for what felt like the first time in hours and did so. "Such a messy little thing," he teased, swiping a finger through the come still on Geralt's skin, then pressing that fingertip to his lips to be licked clean.

Geralt hummed in quiet agreement as he lapped at Jaskier's finger, feeling pleasantly hazy.

"Good boy," Jaskier praised him. A happy rumble, almost a purr, rose in Geralt's throat, making Jaskier smile even wider. "You were so very good for me, darling. I'd say you've earned a reward, if you want."

Geralt's eyes snapped up to meet Jaskier's, suddenly looking a lot more alert.

Jaskier laughed. "Would my sweet puppy like to come?"

All the breath rushed out of Geralt at once and he nodded eagerly. "Yes," he said, voice sounding thoroughly wrecked, even more sand-over-silk than usual. "Please."

"All right, then," Jaskier said indulgently. He shifted them around a little, until his shin was pressed between Geralt's legs. His smile managed to be both fond and a bit predatory at once. He nodded at Geralt. "Go on, pet."

The fresh humiliation sent a shudder down Geralt's spine even as he thrust against the soft material of Jaskier's trousers. His breath caught, imagining what they must look like: Jaskier fully dressed, calm and composed, looking down and watching as Geralt rutted against his leg, naked and bound with the remnants of Jaskier's seed still streaked across his face. He moaned thinking about it and his eyes closed, hips moving faster.

"Ah-ah," Jaskier admonished, gently. He grasped Geralt's chin between thumb and forefinger. "Eyes on me, pup. I want to see you as you come for me."

Geralt whined through clenched teeth but forced his eyes open, looking up to meet Jaskier's blue gaze. He sped his pace even more, hips rolling fast and tight until he started gasping, rhythm growing erratic as he got close to the edge.

"You're almost there, aren't you?" Jaskier said. Geralt nodded, lips parting on a desperate whimper. "That's it," he coaxed, "That's my good boy." His other hand came up and ran through Geralt's hair, gripping a handful and tugging just the right amount. "Come for me, puppy."

A hoarse cry ripped itself from Geralt's chest. He stared up at Jaskier, wide-eyed and shaking as white-hot pleasure seared through him and he spilled all over Jaskier's leg.

Geralt was panting like he'd just fought an entire nest of basilisks as he came down from it. He was vaguely aware of Jaskier's hands stroking his hair, Jaskier’s voice showering him with praise and endearments. He realized, eventually, that he’d let his eyes close at some point and blinked them open.

Jaskier didn’t reprimand him for it, though. He only smiled down and said gently, “There you are, love. All right?”

“Hmm,” Geralt sighed. He couldn’t dredge up much more than that.

But Jaskier fixed him with a patiently stern look. “Words, darling. I know they’re not your favorite thing, but when I check in with you after this kind of play, I do need more than your usual ‘hmm’-ing in reply.”

He took a deep breath, made the effort to reach past the quiet haze to find words again. “Yeah. Sorry. ‘M good.” The words were a little blurry around the edges, but they were enough to satisfy Jaskier, whose lips twitched at that.

“Perfect,” he said. Geralt felt himself smile a little in response, unable to control it. Jaskier chuckled, then leaned down and kissed the top of his head. “You’re so sweet like this, pet,” he said.

Geralt felt like he should protest that. He tried to growl, for form’s sake if nothing else. It didn’t really come out right - it sounded more like a purr.

Thankfully Jaskier forbore to comment on that. Instead he pressed his hands down lightly on Geralt’s shoulders as he stood up. “Stay.”

That was an easy one. He could do that. So he did, letting his eyes close again and just letting himself feel that wonderful soft peacefulness that always came after this kind of play. He could hear Jaskier moving around, a quiet splash, the rustling of cloth, but the usual compulsion to keep track of everything around him had dulled and he could just let the sounds wash over him.

Geralt hauled his attention back when he heard Jaskier approach again, though, opening his eyes to see Jaskier nudge the chair out of the way so he could kneel facing Geralt. Giving him a tender smile, Jaskier cupped his jaw in one hand and began to gently wipe away the mess from his face with the other. The damp cloth was cool and felt nice on Geralt’s overly-warm skin, and he sighed with pleasure.

“Thank you,” he said.

Jaskier’s smile brightened a few notches. “You’re quite welcome, love.” Setting the cloth aside, he moved around behind him and started unpicking the knots at Geralt’s wrists.

Once the rope fell away, Geralt shifted, rolling his shoulders a little to release the lingering tension of staying in one position for that long. Or...what he assumed was that long, anyway. Now that he thought about it - “Jas? How long…?”

“I’m not, you know, certain down to the minute, but an hour and a half maybe? Maybe two hours?” Jaskier stood and offered a hand up. “It’s late enough that we could just go to bed, if you want.”

Geralt let Jaskier pull him up. “Yeah. Please.” A thought occurred to him, and he frowned. “Unless…”

Jaskier, already turning away to lead them to the bed, stopped and turned back. “Unless what?”

“Are you - are you actually done for the night?” Geralt nodded toward the notebook, still lying open on the table.

“Oh, love.” The expression on Jaskier’s face could only be described as sappy. “Sweet of you to check. Yes, darling, I’m done for tonight.” Closing the distance between them, he took Geralt’s face in his hands and pulled him in for a lingering kiss. “You’re all I have eyes for now, pet.”

Geralt shuddered, letting his hands rest on Jaskier’s waist. “ _That_ gives you,” he murmured against Jaskier’s lips, giving him another kiss, “an entirely unfair advantage.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Hm.”

Taking the tacit acknowledgment of victory for what it was, Jaskier turned away to hide his smile and got them tucked into bed without further comment. In the dark Geralt curled against his side, head on Jaskier’s shoulder and arm thrown over his waist, and the bard marveled at how his big, hulking, grumpy witcher could turn downright cuddly like this.

“You really are a darling puppy like this,” he murmured without thinking about it.

Geralt stirred against him a little. “Am not,” he rumbled, and turned his head to bite Jaskier’s shoulder gently in retaliation.

Jaskier laughed. “You are. And if you’re trying to convince me otherwise, I’m not sure chewing on me like a disgruntled pup is the way to do that.” Geralt huffed, though it sounded sleepy enough to be adorable rather than annoyed as he’d no doubt meant it to sound. “Anyway,” he added, bringing up a hand to run his fingers through Geralt’s hair, “you’re _my_ darling puppy, are you not?”

There was a short silence. “Hm,” Geralt finally said. “Fine.”

Swallowing back the urge to laugh again, Jaskier kissed his forehead. “That’s what I thought.”

He fell asleep to the feeling of Geralt’s smile pressed into his skin.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone has any suggestions or requests for scenes or kinks you'd like to see them explore leave a comment and let me know!


End file.
